


back to you (everytime)

by qlossiers



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Maybe angst, what is this, who can be sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 17:47:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qlossiers/pseuds/qlossiers
Summary: "kevin? are you there?"those words. they threaten to melt me every day.





	back to you (everytime)

**Author's Note:**

> fffffffff im so sorry for releasing trash for a ship people don't care about but im too thirsty to care.

"kevin? are you there?"

those words. they threaten to melt me every day. and i let them, and i'm not sure why. he's left his mark on me, that's for sure. i look through the little acetate window at the boys training outside. as soon as i was loaned to hannover, i started looking for options to help me to forget. but no matter how hard i try, i can't forget.

"kev, is everything okay?"

no, i think. nothing is okay when you're talking to me. it never is. i pick up the vodka from the floor. i don't want to talk to him while sober. i don't want to have to remember. but i know that drinking makes me fall, as well.

"yes," i say. "everything is fine."

i have to pretend i'm over him, like he's not the first and last thought of every day. he calls me, and i buckle and go back to not wanting, but needing. i need him. i need to hear him say my name into my skin, to press him up against the bathroom tiles. i need to watch him drop to his knees at so much as me touching his shoulder.

but no. i must forget. it's not healthy.

"kevin, talk to me. please."  
"i don't want to. i have to move on."  
"no, you don't. we've been over this."  
"i want to."  
there's a crackle as he laughs. "you're not doing much about it."

he's called me out again. he knows me all to well.

"kevin, why did you leave?"  
i sigh. "because i didn't belong."  
"you did. you know you did." he sounds like he's going to cry so i have to go back for the vodka. i can feel myself starting to cave.  
"please don't take it personally."  
"how can i take it any way but personally?"

this brings back a memory long since buried. it was in my last weeks in london, when life still made sense. we'd had a good time that night, and he was coming down from his high, head pressed into my sternum. it was in my head, knowing i had to tell him. i just didn't know when. i stroked his hair; i can remember the way he smelled.   
"kev, what's on your mind?" his voice was breathy and so, so sexy.  
"you are," i laughed.  
"oh, i know. but there's something else."   
"i'm not ready to tell you." i didn't want to ruin the night. i knew he wouldn't take it well.   
"if i can take you, i can take this."  
yeah, he's funny. he makes jokes even when it's entirely inappropriate, yet i can't ever help laughing. maybe that's what attracted me to him. i held him closer and pulled the sheets over his shoulder. "i'm- i'm leaving."  
he sat up immediately. "what?"  
"i'm leaving. i'm sorry."  
"what? where are you going?"  
"stoke."  
he laughs hysterically. "you'd rather be at stoke than spurs?"  
"yes. but it's not you-"  
"don't start with all that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit. why? why now?"  
"i don't think i'm meant to be here."

i still hate myself for it. he wouldn't talk to me for a while. but when i moved to germany, he came back to me. and i went back to him. back to him. every time.

"you there?"  
god, i'm drunk. the room is spinning around me and it's like my head is devoid of a brain, just his voice bouncing around my empty skull. i can't focus on one thing for more than a second.  
"yeah. i'm going to bed."  
"are you drunk?"  
"a little. goodnight."  
"a little? you're off your face, kev."  
"i love you, heungmin."  
"if you love me, then why did you-" he goes quiet, clearly dropping his argument. he must want to sleep, too. "i love you, kevin."

the line goes dead and i stare at the ceiling, my head full of him. why, oh, why, does god keep bringing me back to you?  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find my trashy tumblr: moussasissonko


End file.
